The quest for divinity
by BobMcBobinton
Summary: England's mother Brit has just died, leaving him alone. America decides to be a hero and help him. AU USUK fluff.


**The quest for divinity**

Saying England was out of place in the neighbourhood of Hetalia was an understatement. It was, to put it simply, a place for foreigners, who had for some reason been unable to keep living in their own country. It would be no exaggeration to say that if the people from immigration had shown up to one of the neighbourhood's many parties, there would be panic as everyone tried to flee at once. So for one of the three English people that lived in the neighbourhood, which was located in England, he was actually very out of place. In fact, it was so strange they had nicknamed him England, but then again everyone was nicknamed after their country, except for a few that were nicknamed after places that no longer existed or were micronations. Wait, there weren't three Englishmen anymore, there was just two.

The cause of the multicultural diversity of the neighbourhood had been the third person and she had passed away a little over a week before. Boudicca "Britannia" Kirkland could only be described as a legend by the people of Hetalia. Back when Brit had been a young girl Hetalia had been a prim and proper neighbourhood, which had been almost entirely owned by the Kirkland family. Brit had grown up a posh and downright boring life, then suddenly at the age of eighteen her parents had died. They had also left EVERYTHING to her.

It was not surprising that Brit had gone as wild as a sex addict in a brothel, with a hell of a lot of money. The next twenty years of her life was spent travelling around the world, drinking, meeting new people, sleeping with said new people and having enough children to start to start her own private army.

Afterwards, she had settled down to raise the only two children who had decided to hang around and oversee Hetalia like the goddess she was. The people she had met on her journey gradually came to live in Hetalia, because it was the only place misfits like them could live without people trying to run them out of town.

Britannia had died of alcohol poisoning, or server trauma to the body from falling off the top of a Ferris wheel. The police had told Arthur they weren't sure what she had happened. Either she had died of alcohol poisoning and fallen off the Ferris wheel, or she had been so drunk she had jumped. Both the amount of alcohol in her blood stream and the trauma were lethal to a person.

England had to admit that was most likely the way she would have wanted to go, it had been flashy, left a mystery behind, left people shocked and had traumatised small children who had witnessed it. She would have only been unhappy there would have been a lesson to learn from it, don't drink and ride Ferris wheels.

So here was England, the new head of the Kirkland family, with mighty big shoes to fill. First there was the funeral to deal with. Brit had left instructions behind that only family and close friends were allowed to attend. In other words it was going to be a massive funeral.

...

America poured himself another coffee and chugged it down within a few seconds, not caring that his throat burned in protest. Even though England was now in charge of the Kirkland family and all that came with it, America had been the one in charge since Brit had died. England had been in his room for the past week doing nothing but remain in a shocked, useless state. America couldn't blame England, Brit had been the closest person to England and even though the rest of the family had long since bailed, England had remained faithfully at his mother's side through everything. Though he should have known better then to leave America in charge.

A year ago America had been living the sweet life, living in an expensive apartment in New York and rolling in money he had inherited from his dead birth parents. Then the recession hit, suddenly all of America's money was gone. He was forced out of his home and across the border to go live off his brother. Of course that didn't go well, as America used up all of Canada's inheritance as well and the two were forced over the pond to go live with their adoptive mother, who wisely didn't let them anywhere near more money then what was needed for lunch.

So far though, America had been more occupied with organizing the funeral and finding places to house the friends and relatives that flooded into town. Though he had stopped the other day to admire a sports car that was for sale, he had been tempted to buy it, but he had realized that if he did his ice-cream would melt. Needless to say ice-cream won over sports car in America's mind. He had decided that once it had blown over he would buy it and take England for a ride into the countryside, he would enjoy that.

He put the coffee pot down and turned round to see that while his back had been turned, the table had filled with people. It was a good thing he had put everything down first, as he had jumped high enough to hit his head on the ceiling. Sitting at the table was his brother Canada, England's half brother France, France's girlfriend Seychelles, England's best friend Japan and Japan's maybe boyfriend Greece.

"We need to talk America. Can you sit down, please?" asked Canada pointing to a chair.

"Am I in trouble?"

"Not yet, which is why you need to sit down." replied France.

America sat down with a terrified look on his face. They were all looking at him so seriously, except for Greece who seemed to be asleep.

"America, you are probably wondering why we are all here." stated France.

"I was going to say for the funeral, but I'm guessing it's for more then that."

"You are correct, we are here to talk about you looking after England-san." informed Japan.

"Look guys, I know things may seem bad, but I seriously have it covered."

America got up, but a glare from Canada made him sit right back down.

"America, what the boys are trying to say they don't think you are fit to look after England, he is a wreak and you shouldn't be allowed to manage his money like you have been."

"Sey, I can totally handle this. I may have fucked up with my money... and Canada's. That doesn't mean I'm going to waste England's. I learnt my lesson."

Japan eyed him up in his polite and stern way.

"I'm afraid this may not be true, America-san. Greece, tell America what you saw the other day."

Greece was suddenly wide awake and a cat had somehow appeared in his arms.

"I saw America, looking at a sports car." he mumbled before he fell asleep on the table, again.

"Really, America-san, a sports car?"

"I was just going to take England for a ride into the country, so he could relax and maybe cheer up. I was just thinking of him."

Canada took his hand in his own and looked at him sadly.

"I know you mean well Al, but I don't you have the restraint or experience to handle England or his money. I know you're trying your hardest, but knowing you, it won't go well."

He was using his nickname he used when they were younger, must be serious. He looked away, biting his lip and pulled his hands out of Canada's grip.

"All right. What do you propose happen?"

France smiled in triumph and stood up.

"Canada will handle everything from now on. Now let's get to that funeral."

France walked out with Seychelles on his arm. Greece woke up once more and pulled Japan to his feet, they stopped only to give America smiles of reassurance. America got to his feet as well and Canada gave him a tight hug.

"I'm sorry Al, but this is for the best. You're not angry with me, are you?" he mumbled into America's shoulder.

"Don't worry, I know Matt. I still love you." mumbled America as he hugged Canada just as tight.

...

An hour later America was behind the driver's seat of the family car, Canada in the passenger seat beside him and England slouched lifelessly in the back seat, staring blankly out the window. The others had taken their own cars to the funeral, leaving the twins to an awkward silent drive to the cemetery. Arthur had been voiceless throughout the whole thing and the twins had been at a loss for words.

"So, Canada... How's your boyfriend... whose name I forgot?"

"Oh, you mean Holland? We broke up a few weeks back."

"What why? You two were great together; he was always buying you tulips."

"Well he found out about our cousin, Wy."

"What's bad about that?"

"Turns out he prefers them female and young, way underage young. He asked me if I could introduce them. I punched him in the face and told him that he was a jerk and if he ever went near Wy, I'd tell her brother about him."

"That sucks, I'm sorry."

"No, it's okay. I told Australia about him anyway. He is currently deciding which of his pets he should set on him."

"It's times like this I'm proud to call you my brother." chuckled America.

England moved about in the back seat to look at Canada.

"Going through them a bit fast aren't you? How many people have you been with now?"

"Not many, England."

"Bullshit. Come on, list them off."

"Holland, Prussia, Ukraine, Russia, Egypt and France. So only six people."

America was so startled he almost swerved into oncoming traffic. He had no idea that Canada had been with so many people. He would never call his brother a slut, but he had called people it for a lot less.

"Six is more then I ever slept with when I was a teenager. You go through them so fast because you put out too easily. Try and keep it and you're pants and don't whore yourself out. Maybe then you'll have them hanging around longer."

"Sure thing, England."

Canada sniffled a little and his glasses began to fog up. America was unsure what to do, his brother was in tears because of England, but then again he couldn't yell at England because he was in no state for it.

"You okay?" he asked at last.

Canada waved him off and nodded before opening the window, so he could stick his head out.

"America, I have a headache coming. My medicine is in the glove compartment, can you get it for me?"

"Yeah, sure thing."

He leaned over and opened the glove compartment and an object almost fell out of it, but America caught it just in time. It was Brit's purse, her favourite one. It was decorated with union jacks and names of people that Brit had met on her many adventures. America held back tears that threatened to well up in his eyes and returned the purse to the glove compartment. He grabbed England's medicine and passed it to him.

"Thankyou." mumbled England.

"No problem." replied America, trying to keep his voice steady.

Unlike Canada, who had cried his hearts out over Brit, he had not shed a single tear. He didn't know why, but he just hadn't felt the reality of it at all yet, probably because he had been so busy and just hadn't had the time to think about it. Maybe once everything was all over and he took England out to the country, he would take time to cry then. Not right then though, he needed to drive and he couldn't have his glasses fogging up.

...

There was so many people attending the funeral, it shocked America. He had known of course that all these people would be there, but the sheer scale still shocked him. There were people from all over the world attending and by the looks of it, the entire population of Hetalia. America even saw Russia and his sisters briefly, but he ignored them. He wasn't going to fight at Brit's funeral.

After a while they all crammed into the building, where Brit's coffin was. There were about ten rows of benches, which all faced the front, where there was a stand with a microphone on it, for farewell speeches. Beside it was a coffin, which was closed even though the people at the morgue had done a good job of patching her up apparently. It wouldn't be opened till the end, when everyone would be able to say goodbye.

America took a seat at the front, with all the closest members of the family. He was seated between Canada and Sealand, who was sitting on Finland's lap. He really felt sorry for little Sealand, he was only twelve and had already lost his mother, he knew how that felt. He still had Sweden and Finland though, who Brit had decided to leave him to in her will. She had said they would be better parents then she ever had, she was most likely right.

The first one to make a speech was Brit's eldest son Scotland, even though he had not been close to Brit in recent years, he recounted his favourite memories of her and that was when the tears began to flow.

Beside him Canada began to sob quietly and he wrapped an arm around to comfort him, but it made no difference as Wales made his own heart breaking speech, followed by Hong Kong. He had not really known his mother that well, as he had been raised by his father China. He still talked about her like she had been everything to him and Alfred thought he even saw his eyes start to well up.

He almost lost it himself when little Sealand made his own speech. Years later when he would think back to the funeral, he would find that he couldn't remember a word of Sealand's farewell to his mother; he had successfully blocked it out of his mind. Unfortunately he would never be able to do the same for England's.

England was pale and shaking slightly as he approached the microphone, America silently wished him the best.

"I know a lot of people here today are expecting me to give me a sugary-sweet speech, about how my mother was the most wonderful person to walk the face of the Earth and how she could do no wrong. She did do wrong though, she did a hell of a lot of wrong... But that doesn't mean she wasn't the most wonderful person ever, she was for me."

There are times when you feel something so strong that your very heart aches because of it, which was what America felt right then.

"A lot of you here had a love hate relationship with my mother, I knew I did, but I wouldn't have her any other way. She may have done some wrong, but when she did something right, she did it better then anyone could have. I look at Hetalia and think of what it must have been like when Brit was my age, it had been a posh neighbourhood full of rich people. Some may think that's better, but I don't."

England's voice was trembling with every word and America noticed tears were starting to well up in his eyes.

"The people had been upper class and rich, but I don't think Hetalia would have been better off for it. Brit said it was a unfriendly, sad place and if you look at the place now, you'll notice that it is friendly, if a little bit dysfunctional and everyone is genuinely happy to be here, even if they don't show it that well."

America was stuck between two sobbing people now; Finland and Canada were both bawling their eyes out.

"This place is proof of how wonderful my mother was, I can hope to only do half a good job as her. I'm sure she will never be forgotten, I know I won't forget her. I love you mum."

...

Everything else was a blur to America and he could barely recount saying goodbye to Brit. He remembered looking into her coffin and seeing her, she looked peaceful, as cliché as it sounded. She didn't look like she was sleeping, as he had seen Brit sleeping, she snored and drooled. Then she was buried next to her parents, with a big fancy tomb stone marking her grave, how she would have wanted it.

He then found himself sitting on a hill overlooking the cemetery, the people were finally starting to disappear and he didn't want to have to say goodbye to dozens of crying people.

"Hello you." said a voice behind him.

He looked around and was greeted by England.

"How are you feeling?" asked America.

"Better, I feel like a huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders." replied England as he sat down beside America.

"Same here. I have barely slept this whole week, I'm glad all my planning was able to give Brit her deserved farewell. You know..."

"Thankyou, America. For everything, I'm sorry I've been such a wreak." whispered England as he leaned against America.

"It's no problem, I'm just glad I helped. I cried for months after my mom died."

"You were twelve and I'm twenty-five, you'd think I'd be able to hold it together."

"Nah, you can be a wreak if you want to, just remember that I'm here for you."

"Dear America, I believe you have grown up some. Where is the clown that got in a fight with Russia armed only with a hamburger?"

"He's still here, he just decided to act like a big boy until this has all blown over."

"Thankyou."

The two stared down at the cemetery for a few minutes, almost everyone was gone. Only Canada and France seemed to be there, obviously looking for them.

"Hey England, can I tell you something."

"Anything you want to."

"Do you know how my parents died?"

"No, mother refused to tell me."

"You know that movie about the twins who switched places, to get their parents back together?"

"Oh my god, you didn't."

"Well, it wasn't exactly like the movie. Me and Canada met and decided to not tell them who was who, unless they went on a date. Well they went on their date, but they never came home, they had an accident."

"Oh America, I'm sorry."

"Yeah, they started arguing and decided to have a knife fight."

England sat up and stared at America, a look of pure shock on his face.

"You serious?"

"Yup. I told you because then you wouldn't feel so bad having a parent that killed themselves through stupidity. We're in the same boat I guess."

England remained frozen for a few second, then burst out into laughter. America joined him a second later and the two lay on the grass, laughing until they cried. When it was over America smiled at England and kissed him on top of his head.

"Feeling better now?"

"Yes, I am. I feel so great in fact, that I want you to take me out for ice-cream this instant."

"Wish I could, but Canada took away everything, so I can't spend your money."

"Why? What did you do?"

"Nothing. Well, I was thinking of buying a sports car, but that was only so I could take you on a holiday to the countryside in style."

"America!"

"I know, it was a stupid idea."

"It's a brilliant idea!"

"What?"

"Let's go right now!"

"But, money?"

"You may not be able to access the Kirkland bank account, but I still can."

America smiled so wide that his mouth hurt.

"What are we waiting for?"

...

**A/N: Well this certainly took me long enough. I planned to write this months ago and I spent a whole month writing one scene which I later deleted... It also is a lot darker and less funny then the first two fics I did for Hetalia, but then again you can't make funerals that funny I guess. Stick around and I'll be starting my first multi-chaptered Hetalia fanfic. It'll be in the same universe as this fic and will centre around the inhabitants of Hetalia in the aftermath of this fic. It'll be called The quest for unity. **


End file.
